I literally can’t believe how susceptible I am to depression. It fucks off when it wants, leaving me reeling from the effects, and then suddenly comes back just as quick. I overdosed at the start of this year but that was just a cry for help, i took a taxi to the hospital and stayed the night in a ward full of old dead people. After that i felt better, it was like I’d managed to gain some clarity on my situation, like I’d put my life into perspective. Then the depression started to eat away at me again from the inside and now I’m back to wanting to kill myself but not being able to decide how. My parents are exhausted with looking after me, they just can’t take it anymore, and who the fuck can blame them? I am SO pro suicide in the sense that it allows every depressed person a little bit of hope, knowing that ultimately there is a way out of the mess of medication and therapists and disappointed family members that their lives have become. Sometimes that’s all it takes for someone to turn their life around. lyf lyf lyf. I’m going to go and count my pills.